


Perfect Enough

by Distraktion



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brockton Bay, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Post-Leviathan, holiday spirit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28457787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Distraktion/pseuds/Distraktion
Summary: Sticking around Brockton Bay to help out after Leviathan, Alexandria expected to get challenged by Lung or perhaps those Undersiders she'd heard so much about. What she didn't count on was a rather persistent fan, their confusingly effective schemes, or to be taken on a trip down memory lane...(Written for Cauldron's 2020 Fic Santa Event, with the prompt "Alexandria deals with a rather persistent fan.")
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17
Collections: The Cauldron Give-a-Fic-a-Thon





	Perfect Enough

**_As an adjective, “Perfect” expresses a lack of flaws/problems. A perfect copy is exactly like the original, a perfect assistant leaves no stone unturned, and a perfect memory..._ **

Alexandria was used to seeing history repeat itself, so sometimes she took it upon herself to mix things up a little. For instance, sticking around Brockton Bay after Leviathan’s attack, rather than returning to Los Angeles. She explained it as being due to the town’s need for protection, especially after losing heroes to death, injury, and hubris.

Despite that, her very presence had led to most criminals giving up the moment she appeared, and as rumors spread that she was in town most gangs went into hiding. Even Lung, known for his brash confrontations and a paper-thin pretense of being an ‘honorable warrior,’ stayed inside. Which meant that she had spent almost a week just reading reports and...waiting.

That feeling of boredom was one of the reasons why she looked up every time the floor outside the office she’d been assigned squeaked. Usually it was people wanting an autograph, but often it would be PRT Officer Dickens. A bespectacled man assigned to her, he sort of reminded her of Kurt...but with a gallon of anxiety in place of Number Man’s metric ton of confidence.

Thus far, he’d done little more than fetch her food she didn’t need and status updates that were already on her phone. He seemed to lack initiative, spine, and any sense of bravery, something she planned to fix before leaving. It was a convoluted plan, but no more so than Contessa’s usual hijinks at the weekly Cauldron Game Night, so she just needed an impetus-

“Alexandria, we have an urgent!” Dickens burst into her office, running around her desk and slapping a folder on top of it. His eyes met hers, and then he realized he was looming over the seated form of a member of the Triumvirate. “I-I mean...um...we have...there’s…”

He waved his hands around, as if swatting at invisible flies and wasps. Dickens’ mouth flapped for several seconds, and then snapped shut as if worried that those same invisible bugs were going to fly down his throat and choke him to death. He lowered his eyes, muttering an apology for the 35th time that day. 

“No need to apologize.” Alexandria lifted her lips slightly into the same smile she’d given the last seventeen times (that day) someone had fumbled over themselves while speaking to her. She stood smoothly (partially assisted by her flight) and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. The light touch arrested the literal backpedaling his body language warned her of. “We’re a team, even if we work in slightly different ways. Now, did you have something for me?”

“Y-yes ma’am.” Dickens reached for the folder, flipping it open to reveal a hand-written note. “It arrived at the front desk a few hours ago, addressed to you specifically. After getting through testing, I suggested that with the time component, you should be made aware ASAP. Er, as soon as possible, that is.” 

The smile on Alexandria’s face did nothing to reflect the stab of annoyance at having someone explain to her what the letters in ASAP stood for. This made number 8,345, and she sometimes wondered what she’d do to celebrate ten thousand. Maybe kill one of the Slaughterhouse Nine?

She lifted the letter, seeing the spots where it had been tested for gunshot residue, fingerprints, and other particulates. The paper had been manufactured in Brockton Bay, but aside from that it was a mystery. Far more interesting were the words written upon it, in what looked like crayon…

_Alexandria!_

_Beware, hero, for I am your greatest foe. I have hatched the most terribad of plans, and shall take vengeance against you for your actions this day. You shall rue the day you chose to stay in my town of Brockton Bay, for I am the greatest of villains as well!_

_Indeed, its only because I am also your greatest fan that I am warning you. Let us begin the danger, with a plot so dasterdly that your knees shall shirley quake in fear. I have heard that you have a perfect memory, so I am attacking the source of knowledge...Downtown South Library!_

_At noon today, a timer will go off and there shall be smoke and fire. Seek the raven at its writing desk, and you may be able to prevent this tradgedy. If any but you arrive, or the building is evacuated, then all shall be for not! There will be 813.3 days of suffering!_

_Your Greatest Fan_

“Well, that’s certainly an interesting letter.” Alexandria remarked, glancing at Dickens again. He had been standing there the whole time, looking as if he wanted to say something. Despite noon being twenty minutes away, she decided to start on her plan a bit early, and gestured for him to walk alongside her. “What’s your take on this?”

“The...um...my take?” Dickens blushed, then cleared his throat and took a deep breath, focusing on his feet as they climbed the stairs. She could have simply flown, but after a moment her suspicions paid off as he spoke. “The writing desk is a reference to Edgar Allen Poe, and Dewey Decimal number 813.3 points towards something being hidden in the Literature and Rhetoric section of the library. I expect that it’s a bomb...but...er…”

She gave Dickens a winning smile, as well as directions to have police and emergency crews hold back for now, then took off so fast she was a blur. 

Whether a prank or a crime, she had a job to do.

***

**_Reading gives us the perfect place to go when we have to stay where we are._ **

Arriving, Alexandria was relieved to find neither police nor panic waiting for her, and swiftly entered the building with minutes to spare. The neighborhood itself had already been fairly run down before Leviathan hit, its location on a hill sparing the building much of the water’s wrath. The scent of mildew was present, the carpet was wet, but the books were fine.

There were dozens of people, mostly children, inside and they began to clamor upon seeing her. All quieted almost immediately when the hero lifted a finger to her lips. In a calm, careful voice, she told them that she was meeting someone here, and needed peace for said meeting. She promised to sign autographs when finished, and that was enough to buy her some time.

The row of books in question was even more obvious than its clue, a large swath of books along one shelf having been cleared off and placed on the floor. All were books related to Edgar Allen Poe, and in their place was a small wall of cardboard. From inside she could hear a constant ticking noise, giving her a brief moment of worry that this was a leftover from that bomb Tinker.

Walking around to the other side of the shelf, she removed the books there to reveal...the worst bomb Alexandria had ever seen. It was even more pitiful than the pipe bomb Bambina had made from a dildo a few months ago.

An old-fashioned alarm clock with a string tied to the knocker, the other end connected to a match on a hinge. When the alarm went off, it would light the match, and two fuses would be lit. One went to a string of firecrackers, and the other to a small cluster of what looked like smoke bombs. This was less of a bomb and more of a distraction...

Reaching out, Alexandria pressed two fingernails together to cut the string, then spent a few minutes looking around in case there were any other surprises. Back when she’d disarmed Bambina’s ‘bomb,’ the criminal preteen had released balloons filled with hydrogen and a molotov cocktail from a panel in the ceiling, but here...no such followup.

Alexandria returned to the front of the library, and found the patrons were eagerly awaiting her. Despite the librarian’s best efforts, the quiet sanctity of the library was ruined for the thirty minutes it took her to sign autographs, answer questions, and direct the PRT back to the makeshift bomb for disposal.

It was as she was leaving that she had a word with the librarian, a woman named Sandra who gratefully accepted autographed books for her two sons. Sandra promised to give footage from the fuzzy security camera at the entrance to the PRT, then thanked Alexandria for staying.

She explained that the library had become like a second home to nearly a hundred children whose homes were damaged by flooding. Many of them were unruly, but they’d lost so much and were in desperate need of a happy ending. They wanted to escape...

Alexandria knew all about hiding from the horrors of reality in a book, given her childhood. She decided to stay a bit longer, and read a chapter of one of the Maggie Holt books to the kids. They loved it, and so did she.

***

**_Past perfect tense isn’t the most widely used grammatical tense, but it is another example of the word perfect. It talks about the past in the past, for instance..._ **

Another letter had arrived only minutes after she had flown off, somehow. 

Dickens had had to fight off several researchers who wanted to run it through a battery of tests, something he explained to Alexandria as she landed on the roof. He looked as though he was blaming himself for this delay, so she quickly put an end to that.

“Good thinking! Given how time sensitive the last letter was, you made the right choice.” The hero reached for the letter, and didn’t miss the way Dickens glowed with pride. “Even if the last one was a prank, we don’t have time to waste in case this one’s real.”

She tore the envelope open, and began to read it aloud:

_Alexandria_

_You past my test with flying colors, and flight is exactly what you’ll need for my true plan. I put a special sensor that my Tinker made on the doors and windows of the hospital a few blocks from my previous crime. If someone with your DNA passes through them, guess what happens?_

_To disarm it, you must fly to the hospital, then slowly circle around it no less than five times. The sensors on the other buildings will read your DMA and disarm my little surprise. Once that’s done, enter and proseed to the children’s ward on the second floor._

_If you don’t arrive by 1pm, they will be very sad. Need I say more?_

_Your Greatest Fan_

“No offense ma’am, but this seems like another prank.” Dickens had a hand to his chin, only removing it when she gave the letter (returned to its plastic) back. He shook his head, looking at the sky as if he wasn’t talking to the most powerful woman in the world. “They want you to fly around like some kind of photo op, then visit what sounds like the children’s ward of the hospital. Maybe we should send a few people in to make sure this is actually a threat?”

“When did the letter arrive? For that matter, how did it and the first one arrive?” Alexandria’s mind was focused not on the authenticity of the threat, but on the timing. “The first arrived with only an hour until the time limit was up, and this one has...fifteen minutes. How is the person sending them ensuring that they always arrive with just enough time to prevent disaster?”

“I’ll look into it, but I think the first one was left at the front desk. This one was...I’m not actually sure.” Dickens frowned, then sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, I’ll ask around while you’re gone and find out where it came from. I’ll also pull the video logs, if you want?”

“Yes, perfect. Expect footage from the library, and see if you can get anything from cameras around the hospital.” She hovered a few feet off the ground, then paused before flying off. Having heard Legend’s same speech about ‘people, big and small’ 123 times, she turned back to see him waiting for further orders with determination on his face. “Good work, Dickens.”

“Yes ma’am!” He saluted again, shoulders straight and face serious. “I won’t let you down!”

***

**_Every child born into the world is nature’s attempt to make a perfect human being._ **

It was another prank, but despite not finding any “sensors,” she still entered the hospital.

“Alexandria? You actually showed up?” A nurse nearly dropped the tray of pills she’d been carrying, but the hero leapt into action and swiftly caught every one of them before a single pill hit the ground. In a blur she had returned them to their cups, put the tray on an unused bed, and placed a hand on the shoulder of the surprised blonde. “Wow! That was amazing.”

“Not a problem, are you okay?” Alexandria hid her true feelings behind a veneer of concern, having noted that the tall blonde was expecting her. Certain elements of her bearing said that she was more stressed than normal. “Please, sit down here and take a moment.”

“Thanks, I’m just...” The nurse (Delilah by her name tag) sat and rubbed her temples. It looked like the beginning of a stress headache, one brought on by sleep deprivation and a busy schedule. “Sorry, I’ve just been at it all day, first with helping my boyfriend check on all his students and now working a triple shift.”

“You certainly work hard, we’re lucky to have you.” While it was tempting to make smalltalk and settle the nurse down, the clock told her she had seven minutes. Besides, she recognized the blonde’s face from one of the Endbringer Shelter logs, and knew her boyfriend was a teacher at Winslow by the name of Gladly. “You said I ‘really showed up,’ were you expecting me?”

“Right, right. I think one of the volunteers said that you were coming, but nobody really believed her. Or was it a boy?” Delilah’s face screwed up in confusion, and she shook her head. “Anyway, they were telling all the kids you’d be coming here at 2, and helped us move their beds to the windows so everyone could watch you fly around.”

Her confusion suggested that she was extremely overworked, so Alexandria offered to take the tray of pills, having memorized the names on the cups before they were spilled. She left Delilah leaning on the bed and headed into the children’s ward. Loud shouts greeted her...

But not because of any emergency.

Rather, there were thirty-seven children in various states of injury, from minor head wounds to entirely missing limbs. A small sea of shaved heads, pale skin, and sunken eyes, all of which turned to face her as she entered. Putting a wide smile on her face, she began to walk around the room and hand out their pills, as if this was just another of her many duties as a hero.

They cheered, clamored, and begged for autographs, and she made certain to spend time with each of the children. Nurses came running, each showing the same exhaustion Delilah had, but at the same time charged with a new energy by her very presence. 

Toys were signed, kids laughed, and soon she reached up to the comm in her helmet telling her that a bank robbery was going on nearby. Before they could give her specifics, she gently muted the device, then returned to talking about her favorite cereal. Despite her actual preference for Wheat Munch, she promised a little boy named Aiden that Frooty Toots were _her_ favorite too!

She remembered a time before she was Alexandria, before she was what other people called perfect. When she was just a little girl named Becca, scared of the vile disease that brought her a little closer to death with each passing day. When the appearance of a mighty hero would have brought her so much joy…

For them, she could spare a little bit more time. Besides, that bank had already been robbed seventeen times in the past two years according to data she’d seen earlier that morning. 

They’d get over it eventually, this was more important.

***

**_As a verb, “Perfect” can refer to an effort to finish something. An artist can spend years trying to perfect their life’s work, an engineer might attempt to perfect their design, or a villain might perfect a dastardly scheme._ **

Another letter had arrived, and this one had a far less pressing time limit. As Alexandria stood before the security monitors, all the pieces came together, but she still asked Dickens to give her his theory. Not only was it good practice, but it would make her future plans for him easier.

“-but when you put it all together like this,” Dickens gestured at the security tapes he’d acquired, the interviews he’d done with everyone on duty, and the third letter itself. “Everything lines up. The crayons, spelling errors, and pranks all seemed like they were meant to lull us into a sense of false security, but add in the interviews with the people given the letters...”

“You’re right, Dickens.” She watched him carefully as he turned to face her, then frown as his face went blank. Glancing back at the monitors swiftly dissolved his confusion, now with a side order of annoyance. Seeing his reaction, she sighed, “I need to handle this carefully.”

The third letter had a far different tone than the first two:

_Alexandria_

_No more games. No more pranks. No more threats. Just a warning._

_At sunset, Brockton Bay’s newest body of water will fill with the tears of thousands._

_I’ll be there, ensuring my plan goes off without a hitch._

_You know what you need to do._

_Your Greatest Fan_

“Sunset is just under two hours away. I have heavy doubts that anyone’s in any danger, especially given what we know about tonight’s event, but it’s still a lot of people. Besides, a prank is only harmless until it isn’t.” Dickens’ face colored slightly at that last comment, as if recalling a painful prank from his past. He shook it off, though. “Either way, this is beyond me. No matter how many people we throw at it, parahuman powers change everything.”

As the man trailed off, Alexandria watched the tapes again, an idea already forming in her head. Between her memory and the images before her, there was an obvious solution despite the powers in play. Thinking out loud as she played an older video, she muttered, “Good thing Armsmaster saved all his helmet-cam videos. Too bad he’s not here to weigh in…” 

Sighing at the man’s hubris, she got to work. The images on the screen were saved, as well as some notes written in the tiniest font she could make. “Dickens, I need you to get me something from Armsmaster’s workshop, I’ll call ahead and have them unseal it for you. In the meantime, I need to get some schematics and clothes. Also, summon one of the Wards-”

When he got back, Dickens looked on in awe as Alexandria worked alongside Kid Win to make minor tweaks to a piece of Tinkertech. Coupled with a bundle of clothing she’d requested, the hero soon headed out. She’d given him some paperwork before leaving, transfer papers that she claimed he’d more than earned.

He stared at the papers, blown away by the kind words on them and what they represented. He’d helped one of his heroes, and now she was offering to take him back to LA with her.

What would the future hold for him, an imperfect man befriended by the perfect hero? 

***

**_Perfect is a lack of imperfections. For instance, a plan is only perfect until something goes wrong. That happens fairly often, especially as a plan reaches its conclusion..._ **

That evening, thousands gathered at Brockton Bay’s latest lake. Created by Leviathan during the monster’s rampage, it was a large crater roughly in the middle of Downtown that had filled with water. The streets surrounding it still had anywhere from a few inches to a few feet of water flooding them, but people had still come from miles around. 

“Welcome!” The voice echoed out over the clamor of the crowd, and they began to quiet down as someone flew up over them. It wasn’t Alexandria, but rather a much younger and blonder hero. Glory Girl, wearing dark civilian clothing and holding a small bullhorn, tried again. “Sorry, that was too cheerful. This isn’t...I’m sorry.”

While normally fans might have cheered or requested autographs, now they just smiled sadly and let the teen hero collect herself. A few began to cry, and she rose higher upon realizing it may have been her power at work. Or perhaps they were just as heartbroken as she was?

“Sorry. I’m sorry for so many reasons. But tonight’s not about being sorry. It’s about being here for each other.” She swallowed, looking down at everyone and seeing them nod at her words. “That’s why I suggested this. Big thanks to all the people on PHO and the news that spread the word. Because we need to remember who we lost. Why they matter. Like my...boyfriend-”

The teen began to speak about the loved one she’d lost. Someone who had always been there for her, even when she’d been a jerk, and was now gone forever. She talked about a happy memory, despite tears running down her face, then handed the bullhorn off to someone else. 

As she floated high enough that it wouldn’t exacerbate the emotions of others, the next person began to talk about his sister, then another about her son. More names, more stories, more tales as the bullhorn passed from hand to hand. The hero that floated overhead began to dry her tears, seeing people hug one another and support complete strangers.

Meanwhile, another complete stranger was walking around the perimeter of the group. After finding the gathering online, Alexandria had seen many planned to wear costumes representing fallen heroes. Thus, over her costume tonight she wore a blue sweatshirt and sweatpants, as well as one of Armsmaster’s helmets that Kid Win had modified to work without the suit.

Not only did it let her hide her identity and blend with the crowd, but the HUD in his visor was regularly scrolling notes and pictures she’d uploaded into it before her eyes. With this, Rebecca was able to utilize the built-in camera and test a theory of hers. Moving at a slow, steady pace, the camera recorded everything in front of her and then played it back a second later.

Knowing that her target was unlikely to get into the thick of the crowd, she soon spotted a young woman standing on her tiptoes at its edge. She was looking around for someone, but scanning the skies rather than searching at eye level. Add in her striking resemblance to the girl in the security videos (a picture of whom hovered on her HUD), and it was a match.

Now, how best to get her out of the crowd so they could talk?

***

**_No matter how perfect a plan is going, eventually you might say, “Whoops.”_ **

“The hell is she?” Aisha grumbled, wondering if she’d made the latest clue too hard. Alexandria was supposed to be smart as hell and had cracked the others in no time, but how hard was it to miss a freaking crater and sad people. Maybe she was bringing other heroes?

As some priestly guy told everyone to bow their heads in prayer, a hand clamped over Aisha’s mouth and an arm went around her waist. She threw an elbow back into the guy’s balls like Brian had taught her, but it felt like smashing her funny bone into one of Bitch’s dogs that one time. The dude pulled her back into an impressive pair of breasts (?) and then…

Then they were flying.

Aisha let out a muffled scream as fear, pain, and a tiny bit of excitement rushed through her. Her power was supposed to make her invisible or some shit, what the hell? She struggled fruitlessly, then looked down and saw...wow, they were high up. The people below looked like ants...

“I’d appreciate it if you turned your power off and stopped moving around.” The woman spoke, and they leveled off at something like plane-height in the night sky. “I have a note in my visor reminding me that if I’m flying I’m holding someone...but if I stop looking at it I may drop you.”

Pushing with her mind at that new brain-muscle that had popped up a few days ago, Aisha let out a little grunt. In response, the woman holding her shifted her grip, putting the hand Aisha had been licking under the girl’s legs and carrying her like some kinda princess. She looked down at her angry cargo and smiled, that knockoff Armsmaster helmet glowing slightly.

“So nice to finally meet my Greatest Fan,” Alexandria said, and if Aisha hadn’t already been in the air she’d have thought the ground dropped out from under her. Expecting to get carted off to jail or something, she was shocked when the strongest woman in the world floated them over to a tall as hell building and dropped Aisha off. “Let me slip into something more familiar.”

The moment her feet hit the ground, Aisha was running. The stupid door to the roof was locked, but with her power running again this bitch would forget all about her and then-

“I can still see you, you know.” Letting go of the door, Aisha spun and saw that the hero was in her usual costume again, the sweatsuit discarded to the side. She still had Armsmaster’s helmet on, and Aisha had overheard Lisa say that the guy had cameras and Tinker shit in it. “Let’s talk.”

Hoping she wouldn’t have to pull a Mom and call Brian to bail her outta jail, Aisha sighed.

“Fine, but can I get a lift home, first?”

***

**_We’re not perfect, but we want to do the right thing. Some might say that’s human, others might say it’s a dream, but everyone’s unique._ **

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t your home.”

“You already kidnapped me and attacked my elbow.” Emma (definitely not her real name) asked, crossing her arms and huffing. The two had been flying for a few minutes, and in that time Alexandria had learned quite a bit about the girl. “Did you dox me, too? Shut up.”

She’d given a different name each time she was asked (Sophia, Julia, Emma, Madison, and a few others). Despite being thousands of feet above the ground, the young woman had given half-truths for every answer except one. Despite being told Alexandria had her on film passing off fake threats to the PRT, she insisted that she only had the “best intentions.” 

_“After Leviathan, a lotta kids were afraid to go outside, and their houses were crap. So we were told to go to the library, hide out in a book, like that solves anything.” She had rolled her eyes, muttering about nerds. “So I set up a thingy where all those scared kids could see a hero with their own eyes, knowing that the strongest baddest bitch in the world was right here for ‘em.”_

Her memory of news coverage the last few days confirmed that most of the relief efforts in town with capes had indeed been limited. Not in effort, but rather in location and scope. Mostly they’d been appearing closer to their bases, as if the heroes were unwilling to go to the more run-down parts of town. It was an obvious flaw, but one she hadn’t seen until it was pointed out to her.

_“Then for my next trick, I sent ya to a hospital that no hero has ever visited, ‘cause it’s too damn poor. I had to wait for hours after my...someone I knew got hurt. Kids were always crying, and nobody cared.” She’d frowned at that, shoulders hunching, and Alexandria wondered if it was a family member who had been hurt. “Anyway, they were all alone, and needed to know they mattered. They needed the biggest hero ever to show up, make ‘em feel human again.”_

The third “crime” was pretty self-explanatory, and the hero felt a pang of shame at not even knowing the event was happening. It was exactly the sort of thing that Legend would have organized himself, but instead it had been a grieving local hero who did it. She made a mental note to set something like that up for the PRT to run, as well as a dozen other changes the past few hours had inspired her to make. For all her theatrics, this girl had actually...done good.

They floated down to a run-down home with a tarp on the roof, and Emma put a finger over her lips as she unlocked the door and crept inside. Alexandria followed, noting the pile of child-sized shoes by the front door and a coat rack with threadbare coats. A boy years younger than Emma slept on a nearby couch, waking as they closed the door. He started to struggle out of blankets.

“Hey, calm down, it’s me.” Emma approached, and gently hugged the boy, rubbing his back and settling him back against the couch. “I guess the others are upstairs?”

“Yeah, we drew straws. Is that her? Her helmet’s wrong.” The boy peered over Emma’s shoulder, then blushed and hid from Alexandria. He whispered back and forth with her for a few moments, then loudly asked, “Wait, are you in trouble, Taylor? Are you going to jail?”

“Probably, yeah. Better get this taken care of first, then.” Taylor (a name that had made the girl’s shoulders relax slightly when she heard it) turned and walked to a nearby table. It was covered in about a dozen toys with little tags on them, as well as a folded paper the girl snatched up. She returned to Alexandria and held it out. “Look, I know I’m probably going to jail. It’s who I am, and I’ll never be a perfect hero like you. Can you sign this, so they can sell it and bail me out?”

“Please don’t send Taylor to jail!” The little boy ran over and wrapped his arms around Alexandria’s legs. He looked up at her with wide eyes, tears gathering. “She got the roof fixed after it hurt Daddy, and gave us food, and helped take care of us, and said she’d get you to visit and sign our toys, and...and...and…”

“Don’t cry.” Alexandria placed a hand on the boy’s head, taking the paper in her other hand. She unfolded it, revealing a familiar poster, then pulled out a pen and wrote something that had just come to her. Handing it back, she saw the girl’s eyes bug out. “Taylor was actually helping me remember why I became a hero. Now, how about I sign these toys, and then we can talk?”

***

**_Some might say that the journey to perfection is meaningless, since nobody has ever reached it. Nobody ever will, for that matter. It’s an ideal, a goal, a dream...an endless effort. But people keep trying anyway, because every goal is worth striving for._ **

Aisha grinned as she walked down the street, thinking about how awesome she was. Every now and then she paused and looked around (and up), but Alexandria had been true to her word.

It had seemed like a trick, but the hero had said that since all her crimes were for the good of children...she was getting a second chance. That because she’d inspired so much good, the hero was willing to overlook her crimes just this once. After signing all the toys and books on the table, using the tags so their future owners could sleep, Alexandria had flown off to Crater Lake.

Kids across Downtown were happy, help was coming, and she was still free as a bird. To think, Brian always said that planning shit was hard! She’d made a perfect plan in no time, easy!

As she slipped into his hideout, Aisha spotted her brother looking over some maps with Lisa and Taylor, talking about territories or some shit. She just plopped down on the couch and watched TV with Alec, changing the channel now and then to bug him. Must have dozed off, because suddenly Brian and Alec were gone, and Taylor was chatting with Lisa.

Seeing the time, Aisha stole one of Lisa’s burner phones from the big drawer, then snuck into the room Taylor was using and started dialing. She pushed her power off, as it rang through.

The oldest of the bunch answered, then asked, “Is this a robot?”

“Nope, just Dragon, watching you sleep.” She grinned, waiting as she heard him check the windows and tell the others to keep it down. “How goes the packaging?”

“Nearly done. We’re boxing them up now.” She heard rustling in the background, then someone typing on a keyboard. “We sent the pictures to the customers and they’re covering shipping, so we can mail them out first thing tomorrow.”

“Sweet, we’ll make a mint off these. Nerds’ll pay big bucks for personalized autographs from Alexandria.” Once all the money was transferred, they’d have enough to finish the repairs to the roof, get new clothes for the kids, and pay for food for a whole year. “Christmas came early.”

“Damn right. Hey, um...about Dad...” The voice lowered, and she could practically feel the temperature drop a little. The same chill she’d felt a week back, when she heard them crying over a man crushed by his own roof. “Will we have enough to get him buried nearby? The little ones keep asking when they can visit him, and it would be easier if it was somewhere close...”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I know a guy. Worst case, I’ll help ya bury him myself.” Aisha figured she could get Brian to help, maybe put those big dumb muscles to use for something besides making Taylor blush. “Anyway, I gotta get going. Good job today. Better than stealing food, eh?”

“Yeah, way better. Thanks Taylor.” Aisha grinned, reminded of the last part of her plan and happy that Alexandria had bought that particular fake name. “...you’re an awesome friend.”

That made Aisha pause, even as she hung up. 

She could be loud, selfish, and kinda did whatever she wanted. But did it balance out when she did nice stuff for people, and helped her friends? Thinking hard, she pulled some paper out of her pocket, smoothed out the creases, and taped it to the wall. 

Before she could think too hard, her stomach reminded her she’d forgotten to eat all day.

Luckily, Taylor had made a sandwich, and honestly she kinda owed Aisha.

But the girl looked stressed, so Aisha left the second sandwich alone.

After all, she was an awesome friend.

***

**_An imperfect person can be a perfect friend. Perfection is in the eye of the beholder._ **

An hour later, Taylor collapsed into her bed, the day having been a wreck from start to finish. 

First she’d endured angry threats and stares while she walked around in costume and tried to help with her town’s recovery. Then Brian had come to her panicking because his little sister had vanished. Before they could get into that, Lisa had popped up wanting to talk about territories. Finally, when she had a moment to herself, her sandwich had just vanished! 

Turning over in bed, she looked up at the wall and realized something was different about it. About to collapse from exhaustion, she slowly got up and stood before the new addition. 

A full-size poster of Alexandria. It was slightly creased, scuffed, and had writing on it.

Despite her confusion, the words brought her hope for the future.

They made her want to keep trying, no matter what.

To help her friends, her family, and her town.

_Taylor,_

_We each define perfect for ourselves. Never let anyone tell you that you can’t be a hero._

_Your greatest fan,_

_Alexandria_


End file.
